Chamber of Whispers
by labellebeaucoup
Summary: Like all teenage girls, Lily Evans had a secret, one that she had nearly taken to the grave with her and one that could very well change the wizarding world as we know it.


_**Chamber of Whispers**_

 _ **Prologue:**_

 _ **The Well Kept Secret**_

Rain pounded against the large, bay window of the moderate farm house as a huge gust of wind rattled the shutters. The fields, normally a bright, vibrant green at this time of year, were a swirl of mud - their crops drowning in the over saturation. The dark, swirling clouds gave no hint of letting the Sun come out at any time in the near future, obscuring the farm house in a dark, foreboding shadow it found hard to shake.

Lily Evans sat in a large, comfortable recliner before the hearth, her head turned as she stared at the raindrops gliding down the window. It was the middle of July, yet a fire blazed in the brick fireplace. With the storms had come a chilly breeze. In a corner of the room, a middle-aged woman with greying red hair sat knitting a bright, gold and red scarf. She kept stealing timid glances at her youngest daughter, her brows raised in anticipation as Lily absentmindedly stroked her stomach.

"Are you alright, dear?" Lily's mother asked as a grimace flittered across Lily's face.

"It was just a small pain, mum. Nothing to worry about." Lily tried to reassure her mother with a not so convincing smile.

"You're close, sweetheart. Any day now." Lily lowered her head and gazed at the worn, green rug upon hearing her mother's words. Any day and she was sure the guilt she carried would eat her alive, from the inside out. She felt a tear forming in the corner of her eye and began blinking rapidly, hoping to stem the flow of tears she was sure would follow the one lone droplet making its way down her cheek.

"We can keep him or her," Elvina offered, mistaking her daughter's sullen mood as sadness over the decision she had made.

"No." Lily's voice was firm as she placed her hand on her protruding midriff, staring down at the child she was not ready for.

"Have you told James?" Elvina wondered, mentioning Lily's boyfriend and father of her unborn child. The two had met at Hogwarts when they were eleven - both bright faced and eager to start their adventure learning to use their magic. James had been born into the wizarding word - his father and mother both being wizards. Lily was the only witch in her family that her parents knew of. Both had been inseparable for years now.

"No and I don't think I am going to tell him. He would feel bad and want to keep the baby," Noticing the look on her mother's face, Lily sighed, "Oh don't give me that look, mum. I would love to keep the baby, too, but they would be better off with someone older who can devote their time to them. I still have another year of school left."

"Do any of your friends know?"

"No. Professor McGonagall was very helpful in showing me how to hide it."

"Is it wise to put him or her in our adoption system?" Elvina wondered aloud, voicing her fears.

"I've thought about that and...with Professor Dumbledore's help, I've found a wizard family that want to adopt the baby. More than likely, the baby will be a wizard or witch, too."

"That puts some of my fears to ease. It would be wise to put the child with people who understand what it will turn out to be. Not that your father and I haven't loved having you in our lives and we are so very proud of you, but I know it would have been easier had you been included in your world from the start."

"She or he is going to be fine, mum." A grimace crossed Lily's face as she finished her sentence and both hands shot down to grip her stomach.

"They're getting stronger," Elvina observed as the door leading to the stormy outside suddenly swung open, allowing the drafty breeze to enter with the tall, willowy figure wearing a light blue rain coat. Elvina watched as the breeze caused Lily to shiver more.

"Petunia, will you grab a blanket for your sister?" Elvina asked as the door clicked shut. Sighing, her feet heavily hitting the wooden floor, Petunia marched to the small cupboard beneath the stairs and grabbed a thick, woolen blanket. She didn't bother glancing at her sister as she threw it in her direction before stomping up the stairs.

"I suppose that is better than how she normally would have reacted," Lily commented, unfolding the white blanket and throwing it over her legs.

"She's been in a rather cherry mood planning her wedding."

"When is it that she and Vernon are getting married again?"

"I'm not entirely sure, dear. She's been very quiet about the arrangements."

Lily nodded, folding her arms over her stomach and turning her gaze to the fire. The duo sat in comfortable silence for some time before they were once more interrupted by a knocking on the front door. Elvina stood from her seat and headed toward the door, peering outside through the peephole. It didn't hurt to be careful when Mr. Evans wasn't home. Noticing the tall, lanky boy standing on the doorstep, pushing his sobbing wet, black hair from his eyes, Elvina turned to whisper urgently to her daughter:

"Make sure you have that blanket on good. Severus is outside."

Lily bunched the blanket around her, trying to ensure that her bulging stomach wouldn't be noticeable. She didn't have time to perform an enchantment to hide her stomach nor would she have been allowed. Hogwarts students were only allowed to do magic at Hogwarts. For now, a well placed blanket would have to do for coverage.

"Severus!" Elvina grinned at the boy standing outside as she threw the door open. He and Lily had been friends since before her Hogwarts days. He was the first to recognize that Lily was a witch and welcomed her with open arms into his world. Elvina was very grateful for his friendship with her daughter.

"Mrs. Evans, is Lily home?" His eyes quickly scanned the inside of the room, but he wasn't able to spot Lily obscured from view by the back of the large armchair she sat in.

"She is. She's not feeling well; however, so I must ask that you keep your visit short."

Severus nodded his head in agreement, following Elvina into the warm home where he wiped his feet clean on the welcome mat just inside the door. That didn't stop his still wet sneakers from squeaking as he walked across the wooden floor. After walking through the torrential downfall outside, he doubted he would ever be dry again.

"Hi Lily," he greeted, stopping before the armchair and giving the tiniest hint of a smile to his friend.

"Hi, Severus," Lily returned the greeting, gripping the woolen blanket and trying to give her most warming smile.

"Have you gotten your list from Hogwarts yet?" He asked, sitting on the abandoned stool Elvina had been using earlier.

"It just arrived this morning, dear," Elvina supplied for Lily's questioning gaze.

"As you can see, I haven't been up much lately," Lily gave a feeble laugh.

"When are you going to Diagon Alley?"

"Have you scheduled a time yet?" Lily countered his question with one of her own. It had become somewhat of a tradition for Lily to go to Diagon Alley for her school shopping with Severus and his family. When she had first received her acceptance letter and subsequent supply list, Lily hadn't had the first clue about how to get her school needs. It had been Severus and his family who had offered to take Lily shopping and shown her the secret wizarding market street. Even after she had started to date James Potter and spend a considerable amount of time with him and his friends, she still reserved her trips to Diagon Alley for Severus.

"The last week of August?" At his suggestion, Lily nodded. She still had nearly a month before it would be time for their trip.

"Severus, if you don't mind, I believe Lily would like some rest now," Elvina kindly interrupted, watching as her daughter's hands gripped the blanket, her knuckles turning white, "Would you like an umbrella?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Evans. Take care, Lily." He patted her shoulder before walking back toward the door, throwing it open and squaring his shoulders as he stepped back out into the storm. Elvina watched as he left, waiting until he was off the porch before speaking.

"Has it gotten worse?"

"Yes."

"We need to get you to a hospital."

"She's beautiful," Elvina whispered in reverence as she held the tiny, pink-blanket wrapped baby in her arms.

"Can I see her?" Lily asked, watching in awe as her mother rocked her daughter, humming quietly to her. Elvina gave her daughter a warm smile before walking toward her bedside, leaning down to gingerly hand the small bundle over.

"You're not going to want to give her up after you hold her," Elvina warned, brushing a stray, sweet soaked lock of hair from Lily's eyes.

"I can't keep her, mum."

"Yes you can. Let your father and I have her." The words tumbled quickly from Elvina's mouth, as if she had just thought of this possibility for the first time.

"Are you certain?" The hopeful look on Lily's face did not go unnoticed by her mother. Elvina grinned, rubbing the soft, dark hair on the baby's head.

"Yes. What shall we call her?" A large, contented grin crossed Lily's face upon hearing her mother's answer.

"Morrígan," She announced, watching as the baby in her arms slowly opened its eyes and gazed at her with curious, emerald orbs, "Morrígan Elverna."

"I think she likes it," Elvina smiled as Morrígan moved her head closer to her mother's chest.

"Or she's hungry."

Five Years Later:

"I don't like the idea of doing this," Lily lamented, following James into her parents' large farmhouse.

"It's the safest thing we can do, Lily. Voldemort will come after them and your sister when he can't find us."

"I know I have to do this, but it doesn't make me like the idea anymore." Lily quietly crept through the house, careful to avoid the creaky boards outside the dining room where her mother, father, and daughter, whom James believed to be sister, sat. She had wanted to tell him about Morrígan, but Voldemort had gotten stronger after they had graduated and she had believed that her daughter would be safer with her parents.

Lily hesitated only a moment before raising her wand: "Conciliate."

Bowing her head, Lily turned and wordlessly walked out of the house. She found her way to the old oak tree that had been her and her sister's favorite play spot when they were younger. James reached her as she sunk to the ground on her knees, the late evening dew dampening her jeans.

"What memory did you give them?" James asked softly, kneeling beside his wife and taking her much smaller hand in his.

"Mum has always talked about wanting to see Paris...and Morrígan is still young. She'll pick up on the language easily enough." Taking a slow, shuddering breath, Lily watched as the people in the dimly lit farmhouse began carrying their plates into the kitchen before moving upstairs. It wasn't long before her dad was pulling suitcases from a rarely used closet near the bathroom.

"How long do you think it will take them to leave?" James wondered, watching the figures moving around as they emptied drawer upon drawer of clothes.

"They'll be gone in the morning. I already have tickets waiting for them at the airport." Lily shuddered, looking at her hand, intertwined with her husband's.

"Everything is going to be okay, Lily. We'll beat Voldemort and then we will find your parents and sister. Everything will be okay," James repeated this mantra, as if saying that it was going to be okay would indeed make it okay. Gently coaxing Lily to her feet, James wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her securely to his side.

"You never have told me. Is your sister a witch?" James broke the silence after a while, just as the sun began casting long shadows on the ground, slowly sinking behind the hills in the distance.

"She is."

"She's shown magical ability? Does she know?" James sounded somewhat excited and Lily found a small smile forming on her lips. The thought of someone discovering their abilities as a witch or wizard always excited James.

"She's a metamorphmagus."

"She is?"

"She thinks it's funny. I've tried explaining some things to her about our world. She's still at the age where all she cares for is that she can make her hair pink." Lily laughed at that statement, feeling somewhat relieved recalling such memories.

"She doesn't...in front of people does she?"

"Mum has convinced her at least not to do it unless she's at home." The tears came unbidden to Lily's eyes and James, glancing down at her, grasped her shoulders and spun her to look up into his dark eyes.

"They're going to be fine, Lily. This way they're safe." Nodding her head, Lily gave him one quick hug before pulling away and murmuring,

"We should get home. I'm sure Sirius is beside himself watching Harry right now."

"Shhh," Sirius tried desperately to placate a crying, red-faced Harry. The baby looked quizzically at the black-haired man pleading with him to be quiet and let out an even louder wail.

"Your parents should have been back my now," Sirius mumbled, followed swiftly by a curse as he banged his knee against the dining room table. A loud, high-pitched laugh from Harry's high chair had Sirius turning to give the infant a startled look. "So you think that's funny?"

Harry continued giggling, pointing at Sirius as he did so. Sirius sighed - at least he had stopped crying for the moment. Seating himself in one of the dining room chairs, Sirius watched as Harry finally began picking at the food on his plate. He was mainly missing his mouth and, from the looks of it, ruining his shirt, but at least he was preoccupied enough with the fruit in front of him to stop screaming.

A cracking sound from the kitchen drew Sirius's attention. Reaching for his wand, he looked at Harry, holding a finger against his lips and hoping that the infant would stay quiet. Slowly, Sirius inched toward the kitchen, his wand held before him. As he neared the room, he could hear mumbled conversation and the sound of heavy footprints. Rounding the corner, Sirius came face to face with a struggling James who had somehow gotten tangled in his cloak.

"It's just you." Sirius sounded relieved as he pocketed his wand and helped James pull the cloak from his head.

"How is Harry?" Lily asked, hanging her cloak on the coat rack that stood by the doorway.

"He's eating. I think he's missed his mum and dad. Didn't hardly stop crying after the two of you left."

Looking tearful, Lily nodded at Sirius's words and left the kitchen. The men could hear her soothing voice speaking to her son only moments later. Rubbing his forehead, Sirius turned from the sounds in the dining room to his friend. "How did it go?"

"She's taking it hard, but they're packing and will be heading to France in the morning."

"It's for the best, really. They'll be safer in France. Not that there was too much concern about Voldemort attacking her family, but one can never be too safe."

"Her sister is a witch." Sirius glanced sideways at James upon hearing his words and sighed. Lily still hadn't told him. Sirius felt sure that James had questions about Morrígan. After all, if Sirius had questioned Lily about her, surely James would have questions of his own.

"I think you and Lily need to talk." Sirius threw a look toward the dining room, wondering if Lily had heard him.

"About her sister being a witch? Really Sirius?" James sounded somewhat amused that Sirius would think speaking about Morrígan was an important matter just because she happened to be a witch.

"You don't have questions about that, James? Really?" Sirius repeated his friend's incredulity, watching as the other man shook his head, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes as he did so.

"What is there to question?"

"That her muggle parents would have two daughters who possess magical abilities."

"It's rare but it can happen," James stated through gritted teeth, watching his friend shift his weight from one foot to the other.

"Just talk to her," Sirius said in what sounded more like a command than a suggestion and, leaving James standing in the middle of the kitchen, stomped off toward the dining room where Lily was still talking to Harry.

"Lily," Sirius barked, gaining the redhead's attention immediately, "You need to tell James about Morrígan. The truth about Morrígan."

Lily looked taken aback as Harry began to cry at Sirius's tone. Standing from her seat, she came to stand mere inches in front of Sirius, her finger pointed at his chest.

"It is not up to you to decide when or what I tell my husband about Morrígan, Sirius." She was visibly shaking with rage as she spat her words, her eyes narrowing. Sirius returned her glare, opening his mouth to speak.

"Lily, Sirius, what is this about?" James interrupted from the doorway, watching the two wearily as they eyed one another.

"Lily has something to say to you. Go ahead, Lily," Sirius gave her a slight push toward James and turned to look at Harry, "I'll watch Harry."

Sighing loudly, Lily stomped off toward the kitchen. James shot Sirius a questioning look, one that he answered with a mere shrug of his shoulders. Shaking his head, James followed his wife into the roomy kitchen and shut the door behind him.

"Hopefully your mum doesn't get cold feet, Harry. With the way the world is right now, we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow and it would be a shame if your father never knew the truth."

Harry stared up at his godfather, wide-eyed and listening though Sirius doubted he knew what he had said. It wasn't long before Harry had turned his head toward the closed kitchen door, the raised voice of his father drawing his attention. He began squirming as he tried to escape the confines of the high chair he was in. Sirius shook his head at the child, gently picking him up and walking around the room, trying to get him to fall asleep.

"Sirius," An exasperated looking James said as the kitchen door swung back with enough force to bang off the wall, "Would you mind giving us some time alone?"

"Of course." Sirius handed the now sleeping baby to Lily as she entered the dining room before disapparating with a loud crack. Looking anywhere but at James, Lily headed toward the stairs and Harry's room. After laying him in his crib, Lily turned and jumped, James was standing right behind her.

"He looks peaceful. I wonder if his sister is the same when she sleeps." The hint of agitation in his voice did not go unnoticed by Lily who threw her hands in the air, gave one more glance at her son, and stalked into the hallway.

"We were sixteen, James. Sixteen! I stand by my decision. We could not have taken care of her and she is by far safer with my parents. Could you imagine what would happen if, by some horrible happen chance, Voldemort does find us? What would happen to her?" Lily looked at James with fire in her emerald eyes.

"What makes you think he would do something to her? Dumbledore himself said that Harry is the one Voldemort wants."

"Dumbledore also said that even at just five years old, Morrígan can be considered one of, if not the, most powerful witches of our era." This last bit of information had James staggering backward. His look of shock shook Lily who lowered her arms from their crossed position over her chest and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Our daughter...one of the most powerful witches of our era?" James mumbled, his excitement coming and going in a flash as he narrowed his eyes, "Dumbledore knows. He knows she's our daughter. And Sirius. He knew before me!"

Lily lowered her gaze at the accusatory tone and dropped her hand from her husband's shoulder. Her own shoulders trembled slightly as she wrung her hands.

"Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall helped me conceal it...and Sirius guessed right after the two of you first met Morrígan. He confronted me about it and promised to keep it a secret granted that I tell you myself. Obviously three years was too long for him."

"I still can't hardly believe this," James groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, "And you performed the false memory charm on her."

"Dumbledore knows what I have done and where they have gone. He's promised that should something happen to us, he will find them and will do the counter curse."

"I don't want her not to remember us. I don't want her to remember us as her siblings, either."

"When this is over, James, I promise you that we will tell Morrígan the truth and if we never get that chance, Dumbledore and Sirius have promised that she will know."

"I hope that she do-..." James's sentence was drowned out by the loud sound of wood flying apart. Both Lily and James jumped at the sound and, slowly, James crept to the edge of the staircase, looking down the wooden stairs to the landing below. A black-hooded figure stood tall against the shattered remnants of the front door. Looking at his wife and extricating his wand from his pocket, James whispered,

"Take Harry and run!"

Shaking, Lily felt tears falling as James moved down the staircase. She fled to Harry's nursery, plucking the rather small one year old from his cradle and looking for an exit when a flash of green light filled the room through the cracks around the door. Sobs wracked Lily's body as she placed Harry back in his crib, performing the only act she could think of that might possibly save him at this moment.

Crying, Lily turned to face the doorway as the door flew open, shielding Harry in the process. The cloaked figure entered the room, took one look at Lily, and opened his mouth to speak in a rather unnatural voice, "Let me have the boy and you will live."

"No." Lily's answer was firm and defiant.

"What a pity," That unnaturally high voice had Lily shaking, a scream sounding from her throat. Raising his wand and pointing it at Lily, Voldemort said, "Avada Kedavra."

In a flash of green, Lily had hit the floor, her eyes wide and unblinking as they stared up at the ceiling, lifeless. Harry, sitting upright after having unwrapped his blanket, began howling. He was too young to understand the full implications of what had happened, but even at his age he knew something dreadful had happened.

"And you," The menacing threat didn't hang in the air long as Voldemort turned his wand on Harry, muttering the same curse he had used only moments earlier.

"Avada Kedavra!" With a bright, brilliant green that filled the room, the house seemed to vanish. Doors, windows, walls, and floors shattered, raining rubble down on the ground and leaving the large, brown crib open to the chilly night sky. Where Voldemort had stood only seconds before, his black robes tumbled to the ground - empty. Harry pulled himself to a standing position, tears raining down his face as a small, bolt shaped scar began forming on his forehead.

"Are they truly the only family he has left?" Professor Minerva McGonagall asked of Albus Dumbledore as he cradled young Harry Potter in his arms, looking apprehensively at Number Four Privet Drive.

"For all intents and purposes, his aunt and uncle are the only family he has left."

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I, Minerva." Laying the child on the stone step before the home, a home that was nearly identical to the others in this small neighborhood, Dumbledore retrieved a letter from his pocket and laid it on Harry's chest. Turning, he put his arm around Professor McGonagall's shoulders and led her toward the end of the drive, "Tomorrow, Minerva, I would like to see both you and Severus in my office."

Nodding, Professor McGonagall's figure soon began to shrink until she was standing before Dumbledore on all fours, her human figure having transformed into a cat with very peculiar markings. At the end of the drive, Dumbledore turned toward the house and pointed his wand, sounding the doorbell. He waited just long enough to see a tall, skinny blonde and a short, squat man open the door, peering down at the child somewhat suspiciously.

"Good luck, Harry," Dumbledore whispered shortly before disapparating with a muffled crack.

"Professor, Dumbledore, sir," Rubeus Hagrid exclaimed in surprise as Dumbledore appeared to his right, a smile crinkles my the corner of his eyes at the festivities inside the Leaky Cauldron. Not a soul in sight had an empty hand and several patrons were already sloshing their mead out of their cups.

"Hagrid, I have a very important task for you." Dumbledore chuckled as Hagrid, nursing a rather large sized cup of ale, opened his eyes wide in horror.

"Professor, sir, I don't think I can do that right now."

"In the morning, Rubeus."

"What can I do for ya?"

Lowering his voice, Dumbledore began to talk in long, lengthy sentences. Hagrid nodded along while Dumbledore spoke, his eyes opening wide quite a few times as he was given new information.

"I will see you tomorrow evening in my office." Hagrid nodded at Dumbledore's final statement and watched as he stood, disapparating once more with a much louder crack.

Hagrid, though height and sheer size were on his side, had trouble shoving through the throngs of people inside Heathrow Airport. Some grumbled as he pushed them to the side and others called less than pleasant things to the large man trying to make his way past them. Hagrid turned a deaf ear to these insults as he was on a mission for Professor Dumbledore.

Hagrid's eyes searched the many walls as he hurried through the building, looking for terminal number five. He held the photograph he had been given tight in his large hands. He had already been warned to look only for the adults, that the child in the picture could have changed her looks by the time he found her. If she realized she could do that - Lily had supposedly suppressed any memory of her magical abilities.

Sighing loudly, Hagrid reached terminal number five and began looking around. Most muggles were stopping to look at him. A few children even pointed at the large man, excitedly speaking to their parents as they did so. None of the muggles, though, looked like the ones in his photograph.

Hagrid waited nearly a quarter of an hour before finally spotting the red-headed woman and brown-haired man approaching terminal five. A little girl, whom Hagrid knew to be five and knew to be a very powerful metamorphmagus, was safely tucked in between the two with her small hands enclosed in their slightly larger ones. He waited until they had boarded their flight, flight 0332 to Charles De Gaulle Airport, before he took his leave, looking at his watch and half running to the motorcycle he had parked outside.

"The boy is in his aunt and uncle's care. Of course, it will be our duty to watch over him, from a distance, in the years to come." Three of the four occupants in Dumbledore's office looked at him as he spoke, nodding along with his words.

"What abou-"

"I will get to that, Hagrid." Hagrid fell silent at Dumbledore's response, looking slightly abashed at having spoken too soon. Professors McGonogall and Snape watched the exchange between the two men and looked wearily at them.

"When?" Professor Snape questioned after the four had sat in silence for quite some time. Dumbledore held a finger up just as the door to his office opened and a man, his light brown hair sticking out at odd angles, came into the room.

"Now that Remus has finally joined us."

"I apologize for being late, Albus. I only just got your owl." Remus appeared out of breath as he took Hagrid's now empty seat, the older man having given it up for the latest occupant.

"It is quite alright, Remus. Now that we are all here, I have some information that may or may not come as a shock to you, Remus, or you, Severus. Lily and James had a daughter before they had Harry."

The room fell quiet at Dumbledore's words. Both Lupin and Snape turned to look coldly at one another. McGonogall nodded her head, having known for some time already about James and Lily's eldest child.

"If you don't mind my asking, Albus, where is Morrígan?" Professor McGonogall questioned, causing both Remus and Severus to snap their gazes to her.

"Morrígan?" Severus repeated at the same time Remus exclaimed, "Lily's sister?"

"Lily's daughter," Dumbledore intoned, "Morrígan is five now and has already shown a great deal of potential when it comes to magical ability. Before they were attacked, Lily performed the false memory charm on her parents and daughter. Hagrid saw them board a plane to Paris yesterday."

"You allowed them to go to Paris?" Remus questioned.

"Will you not perform the counter curse?" Professor McGonogall wondered.

"Why were we led to believe she was Lily's sister?" Severus demanded.

"I did allow them to go to Paris. I will perform the counter curse, at a later date. For now, it is best that they stay in Paris until Morrígan is eleven and will have been selected to attend Beauxbâtons. As for why you were led to believe Morrígan to be Lily's sister, that is a personal matter that lies with Lily's family."

"Why Beauxbâtons? Why not Hogwarts?" Hagrid asked, his chest puffing out with pride and his face turning red with indignation. He had long thought Hogwarts to be the best school for witches and wizards around, especially while Professor Dumbledore was Headmaster.

"It would be best if she and Harry not meet so soon. At least not until she has finished her education. Sybil has predicated great and wonderful things of young Morrígan."

"And she can't do great and wonderful things here at Hogwarts?" Hagrid grinned at Remus's words - it seemed the younger wizard was taking his side about the school they were currently sitting in.

"The sort of things that Sybil has predicted require that Morrígan be in a certain place at a certain time. That certain place is Beauxbâtons." Dumbledore fell silent, waiting for more questions from the four gathered before him. When no new questions came, he stood and grabbed a piece of rolled parchment from his desk.

"Hagrid, if you would, please send an owl with this message for me."

Taking the rolled piece of parchment with 'Madam Maxime Olympe' blazoned across the front in green ink, Hagrid backed his way out of the room. The remaining two professors and Remus looked at Dumbledore for further instructions.

"For now, all we can do is wait and watch; always ready to make our move should we be required to."

The light rapping on the door, unusual for this time of night, had Harry and Elvina Evans both trying to peak out the tiny glass window in their door. After a few moments of shoving on both their parts, Harry was finally able to get a good glimpse out the glass, noting a funnily dressed elder man with a long beard and half-moon spectacles standing on his doorway. Shaking his head in wonder at the scene before him, Harry placed his hand on the brass doorknob and twisted.

"Yes?" The word had barely left his mouth before Dumbledore had pointed his wand at him and said, "Deconcilio!"

Staggering backward, Harry blinked his eyes rapidly as he felt his a headache forming behind his eyes. Elvina gasped in shock before rushing from the room to find her daughter. His belief that he was an English businessman always eager to start a fresh venture in Paris and a happily married man with one daughter, was quickly vanishing. In this memory's place, was the thought of a two story farmhouse, acres upon acres of farm land, and two, beautiful but very different daughters. The little girl in the other room wasn't his daughter. She was his youngest daughter's daughter.

"What? Who?" Harry managed to at last gasp those words, bent over and drawing breath in loud, shuddering gasps as if he had just ran a marathon.

"Search your mind, Harry. You know the answer to that question." Dumbledore crossed his arms, waiting on the man before him to show some hint of understanding.

"Professor Dumbledore? You're the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Where Lily went. Where is Lily?" Harry's words rushed over one another as he searched Dumbledore's face for some hint of information.

"Perhaps, first I should perform the counter curse on your wife and granddaughter," Dumbledore suggested.

"Counter curse?" Harry knitted his brows in confusion.

"That is what I just did, Mr. Evans. That is why you now remember things you did not remember before. Your daughter, Lily, performed the false memory charm on you six years ago."

"False memory charm?" Dumbledore sighed as the questions continued to be piled on.

"Please, Mr. Evans, allow me to perform the counter curse on your wife and granddaughter before we continue this conversation. I will answer any and all questions the moment I have finished."

Nodding his head in agreement at last, Harry led Dumbledore to the living room. There, they found both Elvina and Morrígan hiding in a dark corner by the bathroom. Gesturing for them to come to him, Harry began speaking:

"We know this man, Elvina. Allow him to perform his...his counter curse and then you will remember."

"What?"

"Deconcilio!" The question died on Elvina's lips as a bright blue light flashed in the room, followed swiftly by another blue light as Dumbledore then turned his wand on Morrígan.

"Why are we in France?" Elvina asked the moment her own headache had began to ebb. Dumbledore, ignoring this question, happened to glance a piece of parchment laying on the oaken coffee table. Bold, blue font greeted his eyes.

"You were accepted into Beauxbâtons. Good job," He smiled, making contact with Morrígan's dark, emerald green eyes.

"It's funny...I don't recall being able to do magic, or that magic existed, until you did that...that spell. That is what it is called, isn't it? My sister used to do them, sometimes." Morrígan's intelligent gaze continued to stare into Dumbledore's eyes.

"That was a counter curse. A type of spell," Dumbledore explained.

"Counter curses undo spells, correct?" Morrígan waited for Dumbledore's nod, "What spell did you have to undo?"

"The false memory charm." The other two adults in the room quietly listened to Dumbledore and Morrígan speaking to one another as if they were old friends. Having remembered what they had once forgotten, they knew some of the world their youngest daughter had lived in, but understood in this instance that Morrígan, being Lily's daughter and sharing that same mystical life, was better suited to be speaking than them.

"What does that do?"

"It blocks certain memories, in this case Lily blocked all memories of her, her family, Petunia, and her family while replacing them with a desire to travel here, to Paris."

"Why would she block our memories?"

"When you were five, Morrígan, a dark wizard, an evil wizard was after Lily and her family. She performed the false memory charm so that you and her parents would not remember her and would move away, to safety. Away from Lord Voldemort's grasp."

"Lord Voldemort? He's the dark wizard?" Her voice was devoid of any of the fear that Dumbledore normally heard when someone dared whisper Voldemort's name. "Why would he want us?"

"He wanted Lily's son, Harry. He believed that Harry would be his downfall and that to survive, he must kill Harry. Lily feared that if he learned of her family, he would use them to find her and that if he found her family, he would see an even bigger prize than Harry in you."

"Me? A prize?"

"Your magical abilities are quite astonishing, even at your age. With teaching, you have the potential to do great and remarkable things. Lily feared that Voldemort would see what I saw in you and take you, groom you to fight for him."

"When you speak of Lily, you use the past tense."

"Lily and James both died protecting Harry from Lord Voldemort. That is why the counter curse was not performed any sooner than now as Lily had intended." A loud, heart wrenching sob erupted from the other corner of the room as Elvina buried her face in Harry's chest as she heard the news that her daughter was dead. Harry, wrapping his arms around his wife, had tears running down his face as well. Morrígan; however, was looking at Dumbledore as if she were working a puzzle in her mind.

"You spoke of Lily's parents and my parents as if they are not the same."

"That is not a question for me to answer." Dumbledore inclined his head toward the couple behind Morrígan. She turned to look at her parents, holding one another as they wiped away tears that were almost instantly replaced.

"Lily and James were your parents. She had you right before her last year at Hogwarts. That is why your grandfather and I raised you." Elvina tried to give a smile through her tears, but it only caused another body wracking sob.

"Hogwarts?" Morrígan once more turned her attention to Dumbledore.

"A school. Just like Beauxbâtons."

"Why didn't I receive an acceptance letter from there?" She gestured toward her Beauxbâtons letter as she spoke.

"You live in France and all French wizards and witches attend Beauxbâtons."

"What if we returned to England?"

"That...would not be in your best interests."

"Why?" Morrígan's barrage of questions seemed to have no end as she kept her inquisitive gaze locked on the older wizard before her.

"There are forces at work, Morrígan, that see Beauxbâtons as the best option for you at the moment. Now I must go, but I do hope to see you soon." Dumbledore gave a small, knowing smile to Morrígan and she suddenly felt as if there was some secret she had not been privy to. Slowly, she nodded her head and watched as her grandfather showed the older man out the door.

"Are you sure you're ready, dear?" Harry asked as Morrígan stood beside him on a somewhat crowded Parisian street.

"Your mum and dad would be so proud," Elvina gushed, straightening Morrígan's hair and squinting into the sunlight.

"I believe that is the carriage," Morrígan suddenly announced, pointing a finger at a large, black carriage with six quarterhorses.

"That's not at all like the description in your letter," Elvina protested, shaking her head.

"Yes it is. That's got to be it. I've never seen a blue carriage before or one that has three stories and those horses are huge! And winged." Elvina scrunched her forehead as she tried to see exactly what her granddaughter was seeing and came up short. None of what Morrígan had described greeted her eyes - instead, all she saw was an ordinary carriage that one could find at any time on the streets although it was unusual to have six horses.

"There must be a spell protecting it from muggle eyes! Remember? I read about them in A History of Beauxbâtons!" Morrígan's excitement had Elvina and Harry both smiling as they remembered a similar experience with another young girl not too long ago.

"Are you ready then?" Harry asked, awkwardly holding a large trunk and already taking a step in the direction of the carriage.

"Yes!" The trio pushed their way through the street, coming to a stop in front of the carriage where, to Elvina and Harry's eyes, a short, well dressed man stood asking for Morrígan's letter, although Morrígan could see that this was no normal man - his large, pointed and hairy ears helped Morrígan determine him to be a goblin.

"Here you go," Morrígan said, producing the parchment with the blue ink. The goblin ran his large, bulbous finger across the ink before handing the letter back and giving a grotesque smile to the girl.

"Good luck this year and welcome to Beauxbâtons." Morrígan gave a curt nod as two more goblins appeared, taking her trunk from Harry and disappearing with it into the carriage. Elvina and Harry both looked at Morrígan with tears in their eyes.

"Have fun, sweetie."

"Don't forget to write!"

Morrígan grinned and hugged both grandparents before herself climbing into the carriage. She gasped when she stepped inside - if the outside had been impressive, it was nothing compared to the inside. Stairs ran up three stories on the far left corner. Ten beds were on each floor - Morrígan had already read that the Beauxbâtons carriages carried thirty students. A tall, slender witch with thinning brown hair stood just inside the carriage, giving the occupants a friendly smiled as they came one by one to stand before her.

"Good morning," Her eyes twinkled as she spoke and Morrígan, to her dismay for she had never been very talented at the language, realized she was speaking fluent French, "Welcome! All first years may select a bed on the first level. Second years and up may go to the second and third level."

The small group that had congregated took only moments to disperse, leaving Morrígan the only one on the first level. She found her trunk sitting by the first bed near the window, the silky blue bed curtains parted to give a view of the sunny Parisian sky. She turned to look behind her when the friendly witch placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You may go ahead and change into your school robes if you wish, but they will not be required until the sorting ceremony."

"Are we required to speak French?"

"While you are on school grounds, yes. At Beauxbâtons, it is considered rude to speak in front of your peers in a way that they may not understand."

"Are there French classes?"

"Why are you worried about your French? You speak like a true Parisian."

"If you say so," Morrígan shrugged, opening her trunk to retrieve her long, silky blue robes, blue beret, black low-heeled shoes, and grey pleated dress. She disappeared behind her bed curtains long enough to quickly change her clothes before reappearing, tucking her black hair beneath her beret. The witch nodded in approval upon seeing that Morrígan had changed.

"Beg pardon, but what is your name?" Morrígan asked, seating herself on the soft mattress.

"You can call me Professor Prudhomme. I teach Muggle Studies - should you choose to take my class. As a half-blood raised by your muggle grandparents, Miss Potter, you will not be required to take my class."

"Half-blood?" Morrígan questioned, shrugging off the odd sensation of being called by her father's, her biological father's, last name.

"It means that your father was a pure-blood, meaning that both his parents and his parents' parents were witches and wizards and your mother was a witch of muggle birth. I would have assumed Professor Dumbledore would have explained this to you."

"You know Professor Dumbledore?" Morrígan's face lit up at the thought. Though she had only known Professor Dumbledore for a brief hour or so, she had found that he was extremely easy to speak with and she felt confident in trusting his decisions.

"Nearly everyone in the wizarding world knows Albus Dumbledore," Professor Prudhomme answered, watching out the window for any more students.

Morrígan opened her mouth, ready to ask another question when a blonde girl and boy stepped inside the carriage. Professor Prudhomme spoke with the two before they moved to the beds near Morrígan.

"Hi," the blonde said to Morrígan, a large smile on her face, "Yvette Badeaux."

"I'm Morrígan. Morrígan," she paused, unsure of what name she was supposed to use. Professor Prudhomme had called her by her father's last name, but Professor Dumbledore had made it sound as if she were supposed to be in hiding. Making her decision, Morrígan finally finished with, "Evans-Potter."

"Potter? Like the kid who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" The boy who had boarded with Yvette asked, jumping from his bed to come stand in front of the two girls, "I'm Jean-Luc."

"I'm...not sure." She was almost certain that Professor Dumbledore would not have wanted her to answer that question in the affirmative. It would be best if she were to act ignorant of her relation to the Potters of Britain. Changing the subject, Morrígan asked, "Are you two related?"

"We're twins," Yvette answered, nodding enthusiastically and causing her short curls to dance.

"Are your parents..." Morrígan trailed, unsure if she should ask her question, or even how to ask her question.

"Like us?" Jean-Luc supplied, waiting for a nod from Morrígan before continuing,"Our dad is, but our mum is a muggle. What about you?"

"Erm..." Once again Morrígan found herself wondering what she should say. She was almost sure that if she mentioned both her parents being dead, the Badeaux twins would come to the conclusion that Lily and James Potter were her parents and if they didn't come to that conclusion, someone else would if they told them. She decided to go with a half-truth. "I don't really know my parents, but my mum and dad were. My grandparents raised me. They're muggles."

"You're like us then. You won't have to take muggle studies," Jean-Luc grinned, causing Yvette to roll her eyes.

"Honestly Jean-Luc, I don't know why you aren't going to sign up for muggle studies. It will be very interesting."

"Yvette, we have lived in the muggle world. What is there to learn we do not know?"

"It will be interesting to learn about the muggle world from a wizard's perspective," Yvette argued, turning toward Morrígan with a look that seemed to seek her assent. Choosing to take neither side, Morrígan instead said:

"Witch. Professor Prudhomme is the muggle studies professor." She nodded her head toward the elderly witch who was shutting the carriage door behind the goblins as they entered. The twins followed her gaze before turning back around.

"Wonderful! She seems so very nice," Yvette beamed as Professor Prudhomme began speaking.

"We will be departing for Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons momentarily. The first hour of the ride will be spent on the ground, moving away from muggle eyes before we depart to the skies. Do get comfortable and perhaps," here she paused to shoot a dark glance toward the upper level, "make some new friends."

"Is it only us?" Jean-Luc asked, looking around at the lower level where they happened to be the only three first years.

"I suppose," Yvette replied, looking slightly put off before turning to Morrígan, "What house do you want?"

"It doesn't matter to me. I think they all sound wonderful."

"I want to be in Bellefeuille."

"Yvette's always loved nature and you should see the portraits she can paint," Jean-Luc complimented his sister, "I want to be in Papillonlisse."

The twins argued the merits of both houses for the rest of the ride, stopping only briefly to enjoy the mid-afternoon snack that was passed around by friendly house-elves. Neither twin seemed to place much emphasis on the third house, Ombrelune. Morrígan allowed them to drone on with their opinions, barely listening as she stared out the window at the passing landscape below.

Dusk was setting when the carriage finally landed on a sandy beach beside the Mediterranean. The students were instructed to leave their luggage and were soon scampering out of the oversized carriages to stand by the shoreline.

"First years, stay with me," Professor Prudhomme announced, waving for the first years to form a circle around her, "The rest of you know what is expected."

Morrígan watched as, first, the eldest students marched toward the large, foreboding castle followed by the sixth years and so on. She noticed that as well as being sorted by age, each group of students within their year were together based on the color of their scarves and berets. There was dark blue, emerald green, and a deep, striking purple. She assumed those colors could only represent the three houses.

"First years, follow me." The group was startled at Professor Prudhomme's words, having been engrossed in the procession before them. They followed the professor to the green, grassy lawn and up a slight hill where they saw the other students sitting in a large semi-circle. A small, wooden podium sat before the group, a golden wand upon its glossy surface. The new students stared at this wand as they came to a halt before it. A large woman stood from her seat beside the podium, towering above everyone else.

"Good evening and welcome to Beauxbâtons. I am Madame Maxime,"she smiled, spreading her arms as if to hug the whole of the group, "Momentarily, we will perform the sorting ceremony, but first, I would like to explain the ceremony to all of you.

She waited for the nods of understanding to come from all the first years. She didn't seem to be paying much attention to the older students, though they sat listening with rapt interest, no doubt she believed they had already heard this spiel enough.

"When Beauxbâtons was first founded, the three founders would interview each student personally and declare their desire to have that student in their House. After the death of her co-founders, Papillonlisse, our first headmistress, had the cores of her wand and the two other founders' infused in this wand.

She gestured to the golden wand that lay on the table and waited for a few moments as the new students all turned to ogle the wand. Once their attention had finally returned to her, she continued,

"Of their House, each founder had something to say, as most founders do. Bellefeuille! Please recite your house motto."

Slowly, students with emerald green hats stood and began speaking in unison:

"Into my house I shall bring

Students that savor the scent of spring

Things that grow, one and all

Watching the seasons turn and fall

In knowledge mine will also abound

And all will heed the forest's sound

Nose in book, hands in earth

Mind and body combine for great worth."

The students waited until Madame Maxime had nodded before sitting, once again in unison.

"Papillonlisse?"

This time students in purple berets stood from their seats.

"For those whose heart is with their friends

Who believe that love will always mend

Artists true with hearts so pure

In my house they can be sure

With maturity beyond their years

Their fellows share their inner tears

Kindest souls are taken in

Dedicated, thoughtful, all herein."

Once again the group waited for approval before sitting and finally, with a warm smile that she had not shared with the other houses, Madame Maxime called, "Ombrelune?"

Standing, the last group with the blue berets spoke:

"Into my house the others I shall keep

Those whose knowledge is different and deep

Purer blood is key, but more can bring

Sharp intellect and utter cunning

The ends justify the means they use

And will not tolerate those who lose

Cold in heart, colder in soul

Into my house the different may go."

Clapping loudly, Madame Maxime announced, "Well done Ombrelune!"

"That's her House," Jean-Luc whispered to Morrígan.

"Now, first-years, as I call your name, you will step up to the wand, point it toward the sky and declare that you wish to be sorted. A star corresponding with your House will then emerge. You may then sit with your new House. Alright, Badeaux, Jean-Luc."

Grinning, Jean-Luc sprung from his seat and raced toward the podium and the golden wand. Grasping the wand in his hand, he pointed it to the sky and said, "I wish to be sorted."

A single purple star shot into the sky and the students in Papillonlisse clapped as, grinning, Jean-Luc laid the wand upon the podium and bounded toward his new House. Yvette was next and was slightly crestfallen when a single blue star, to the applause of Ombrelune, shot into the sky. Other names were called and one by one the first years were sorted.

"Potter, Morrígan."

Morrígan held her head high as she heard the murmurs around her, having started the moment the other students had heard 'Potter'. No doubt they were speculating her relationship to the other Potter, the famous one, as she made her way to the podium. The wand was heavy in her hand, heavier than the wand she herself had purchased, and was worn in some places. The thousands of hands that had touched the wand since it had been created had each left their mark. Pointing the wand to the sky and declaring loudly, "I wish to be sorted," Morrígan heard the collective gasps around her. She didn't understand until she looked up into the sky. Three stars floated above, each outlined against the darkening sky. There was the purple star for Papillonlisse, the green for Bellefeuille, and the blue for Ombrelune.

"Miss Potter, if you please, come stand with me." Morrígan nodded, shaking as she laid the wand upon the podium and joined Madame Maxime, watching the rest of the sorting ceremony by her side. Once the ceremony had finished and the other students were crossing the vast lawn to the dining hall, Madame Maxime led Morrígan to an office on the third floor. The office, warm and bright, was full of many magical objects that Morrígan could not put a name with. Sitting behind her desk, Madame Maxime gestured for Morrígan to take the chair before her.

"Never in the history of this school has that wand failed to sort a student." Morrígan shrunk in her chair at Madame Maxime's words, she sounded slightly offended that the wand had failed to do its job, and slightly impressed.

"Does this mean that I have to go home? That I can't be placed in a House?" Morrígan eyed the headmistress hopefully, wishing above all else that she would be told she could be sorted.

"On the contrary, Miss Potter, this puts us in a rather unique situation. The wand acts on the wishes of the three founders and, according to the wand, all three founders would wish for you to be in their House. There is something about you that appeals to all. As there is no precedent for how to proceed in a situation such as yours, I will allow you to choose the House to which you wish to belong. Obviously you have enough of the desired qualities to belong in any."

Taking a moment to think, Morrígan decided on the one thing that she thought may lighten Madame Maxime's mood.

"I want to be in Ombrelune." Madame Maxime's smile told Morrígan that she had indeed made the right choice.

"Now, let's go join the others. I'm sure you're famished," Madame Maxime cooed, standing from her seat as Morrígan scrambled to stand quickly from hers and follow the headmistress down two flights of stairs to the dining hall.

The chatter that had come from the dining hall prior to Morrígan entering, died down the moment she stepped foot in the large room. Slowly, Morrígan walked with her head held high across the room and to a long table that held students with blue berets. Yvette was sitting on the far end and that is where Morrígan headed, sitting beside the blonde. Everyone seemed to be diverting their gaze from Madame Maxime to Morrígan and back again, waiting for an explanation.

"As she was sorted into all three Houses, I gave Morrígan the option to select her House. She has chosen Ombrelune. Now remember Ombrelunes, Morrígan, although selected by your House, was the one who made the final selection. Welcome her with open arms."

Ombrelune began clapping at the end of their headmistress's speech, drowning out the small amount of applause from the other Houses. Morrígan grinned at her fellow pupils as a large plate of cassoulet was shoved toward her.

"I'm glad you picked this House. At least if I can't be in Bellefeuille, I have a friend in Ombrelune."

Morrígan gave Yvette a smile as she dug into her food.

"Have you seen our schedule ye-" Yvette stopped in the middle of her sentence as she sat beside Morrígan at the long table, "When did you dye your hair?"

"I didn't dye it," Morrígan answered around a mouthful of bacon, glancing at the schedule that Yvette had allowed to fall to the table.

"It was black yesterday and now it's blonde...and about a foot shorter."

"That?" Morrígan asked, fingering her chin length locks, "I did that this morning. I can change it back if it's that shocking." With a slight look of concentration, Morrígan's hair once again fell to her waist in a wonderful jet-black waterfall of silk.

"You're a metamorphmagus!" Yvette's sudden exclamation had a few seventh years suddenly very interested in the first years at the end of their table. They moved closer to see what was happening.

"You're a mertamorphmagus?" An older brunette girl asked, looking at Morrígan excitedly.

"I guess? Oh stop looking at me like it's a great accomplishment."

"It is! Metamorphmagi are extremely rare," The older brunette explained.

"There hasn't been one at Beauxbâtons in ages," Yvette continued.

The chatter around the table continued while Morrígan, shrugging her shoulders and continuing to attack her food, began reading through her schedule. She and Yvette had Potions second period - they were free their first period.

"Settle down, class. Settle down." The loud, booming voice accompanied by a friendly face with severe, short blonde hair and twinkling green eyes had the whole class quieting down while also smiling enthusiastically at their Potions teacher.

"I am Professor Allais and I will be your Potions instructor."

There were murmured greetings as Professor Allais instructed the class to retrieve their textbooks before taking roll. She smiled when she reached Morrígan's name.

"Ah! The inspiration for my rather impromptu lesson this morning, Miss Potter."

"I beg your pardon?" Morrígan was suddenly aware of the eyes that had latched onto her the moment their professor had taken time to personally address her.

"I was asked by several students about Poly Juice, the curiosity seemingly brought on by the knowledge of a certain metamorphmagus in Ombrelune." The older witch's smile was genuine as she looked at Morrígan.

"Poly Juice?" Morrígan asked, wondering why this potion had been brought up and exactly what it had to do with her.

"A very specific, very difficult potion that allows its drinker to turn into a certain person for an hour at a time. Essentially, it allows wizards to do what you can do at will."

"But it only lasts an hour?" Morrígan shook her head at the knowledge - she could change her appearance whenever she wanted and there never seemed to be a time constraint.

"Yes. It doesn't last quite as long as yours," She winked before continuing with the roll call, causing the rest of the class to finally take their eyes off Morrígan.


End file.
